A Romp Through Midsummer
by Saroko Phoenix
Summary: Armend Ratula loves to document the stories of pokemon trainers. When he gets the chance to meet the trainer known as the Witch, however, he quickly realizes that he's bitten off more than he can chew. Plus a bunch of wild pokemon seem to want them both dead. Can a trainer who'd rather run away than fight live long enough to get any answers?
1. How to Meet a Witch

** Hello, Everyone. It's been a very long time since I've actually submitted anything to FF, but I've recently gotten this urge to try writing again. Mostly a lot of Pokemon stuff, but I've been doing that for a while now, so I think I've gotten practice…But more explanation on that later. In the meantime, enjoy. 8)**

**Note:**

"Quotes mean someone's talking," '_Italics and single quotes mean thought,'_** [Bold in brackets mean typing in the computer,]** and these arrow things mean translated Pokespeak.

(o)

"Holy shit, man! Who did that to you?"

"Ugh…You know the witch everyone's been talking about? I found him."

"No way! Didn't you use your pokemon?"

"Yes! And he used his!"

Armend Ratoula peeked over his shoulder at the two young men at the PokeCenter counter. Both were around thirteen years old and dressed in the usual trainer attire, complete with pokeball carrying belts. One, however, looked like he had been on the other end of a rhyhorn's Take Down attack. His face was swollen with bruises, blood dribbled from a cut on his lip, and one of his fingers was twisted oddly. He was leaning on his buddy who was smiling, but he couldn't pull his eyes away from the broken finger. "So…I guess he's as brutal as they say he is," he laughed. The injured trainer shot him a glare as the nurse came to look him over.

Armend tried to listen for more details on the mysterious witch, but the two boys were more preoccupied with the nurse, and he couldn't get between her and them until she was done either. With a heavy sigh, he dropped back into his supine position on the couch and continued to type on his white, sticker-clad laptop.

For the past few days, word of the witch had been circulated between trainers ever since he first came to Eterna City, and there had been sightings as far as Sunnyshore. It wasn't just trainers who wanted him, police wanted him too for the same reason: he was a trainer who literally fought alongside his pokemon. Actually went and attacked enemy pokemon with his bare hands and everything!

Physical participation in pokemon battles was rare and highly illegal due to how dangerous such battling can be. Even young, low-level pokemon could easily harm a human. Actually fighting them head on was unheard of except for select groups of authorized trainers, and even they only fought with their pokemon during tournaments. A trainer who did this on a regular basis and lived was a challenge no other trainer could pass up.

Armend's laptop made a soft ping as a message replied on the chat room. [C-Box: Or ambulance chasers like you for that matter!] The boy winced. He didn't realize he had been gushing over a likely story again.

** [C-Box: Who the Hell goes on a pokemon journey just to blog about other peoples' journeys?]**

** [C-Box: Oh. I'm sorry. 'Record' other journeys, reporter.]**

** [C-Box: Can this even count as a 'Pokemon' journey anymore? You never battle. You only taught the others how to run and save your ass.]**

** [C-Box: I don't even know how you got a team at all! You-]**

** [C-Box: Spiral eyed (btw Genetics! How do they work!?),]**

** [C-Box: Crappy sweater wearing,]**

** [C-Box: Dead zigzagoon hair,]**

** [A-Man: THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR! D8]**

** [C-Box: Skirt chasing,]**

** [A-Man: FQ]**

** [C-Box: Are you kidding? It's either a dead zigzagoon with a skinned tail, or you're rocking a spikey afro with a loose string and KILLING it. I'd go with the pokemon.]**

** [C-Box: U can always say it's sleeping.]**

** [A-Man: I'm shutting down.]**

** [C-Box: Ok! Ok! Ok! -_-]**

** [A-Man: So did you find anything about the witch or not?]**

** [C-Box: Plenty. And people still complain about cameras in pokegear.]**

** [C-Box: But. No street address.]**

** [A-Man: Shit! ]** Armend's hands dropped to his sides, and he glared at the screen as C-Box hurled some more abuse. What was happening to the internet? Didn't people care about exact information anymore?

He pushed himself up again.

And then he straightened himself up so fast he almost knocked his computer off his lap. The nurse and the boy with the broken finger were gone, but his friend remained.

There wasn't much time to prepare a proper speech or tell C-Box. Shutting his computer closed, he vaulted himself over the couch and took large, quick steps to his destination. The younger looked up at the sound of Armend's footsteps and was greeted with a massive grin and shining, spiral eyes.

"Hello! Can you tell me more about the witch and where I can find him?"

(o)

Cars and motorcycles honked at him as they went past. Pokemon barked and even tried to chase them. People on the streets dove out of their way and shouted obscenities. Armend and his doduo paid them no mind.

Riding on top of Dial-Up bareback, he spurred the two-headed bird to go faster, and she complied with eagerness despite the blue anklet weighing her down. Her trainer rarely let her move so fast in such a crowded area, but news of the witch had even him throwing caution to the winds. And she was going to enjoy it! With a cry she leaped over a stunned passerby's head and was across the street before he had even turned it.

"WOAH! WOAH WOAH, GIRL!" Armend screamed in a high octave while clutching the bird and his yellow shoulder bag for dear life. "I DON'T WANT TO MEET THE WITCH AS A SMEAR! TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH!" Ok. So the news didn't make him _completely _reckless.

They turned down another lane, and Armend's fear gave way to excitement again. This place seemed to match the internet photos perfectly! It was just a cluster of houses and small businesses bunched together. There were absolutely none of Eterna City's usual landmarks; therefore devoid of any way to find the Witch normally. If people hadn't claimed they had met him in _this very city_ on _this very day_ Armend would never have known.

He craned his neck for any signs of battle, but everything looked normal. Urging Dial-Up on, they tried another street. This one looked normal too. Armend chewed on his lower lip. Maybe the next street?

A loud crash and a bang. In an example of the bonds between human and pokemon, Armend and Dial-Ups' heads swiveled in the direction of the noise. Armend didn't need to tell her what to do. Dial-Up sprinted in the correct direction, and her trainer's smile returned.

A wall of people interrupted their progress. From his vantage point on the tall pokemon's back, Armend could make out figures at the center of the crowd. One even seemed to be hurling floating bricks at the others. The sight had Armend bouncing with excitement.

Which, sadly, dampened Dial-Up's eagerness. A mount pokemon she was, but no one liked being treated like a trampoline. Both heads, for effect, turned to give their rider a nasty glare that stiffened him right up. "Heh, sorry, Dial," he mumbled with an apologetic smile.

The apology was accepted and she pushed through the crowd.

The people parted easily enough. Being taller than any of them helped, and no one wanted to deal with something with two heads and two very sharp beaks that jabbed them in the back. In no time, Armend and Dial-Up were at the center of the ring witnessing the match with their own eyes and not just someone else's camera lenses.

There were two humans, a nosepass, and a stunky in the clearing. The first trainer was older than the teenage Armend by at least five years. His green hair stuck out in many directions at once. He was dressed all in leather suggesting he was a motorcyclist or something along those lines, but he didn't seem to be very tough now. He was breathing heavily and was covered in scrapes.

And then there was the witch himself.

He was no more than fifteen or taller than five-six. He wore a simple blue t-shirt, grey jeans, and sneakers; all very casual even if they did look dirty from all of the fighting. Around his neck, hanging like a necklace, was a pokeball, and his hair was a vivid red that framed his face.

But that was as much of the boy Armend could see. Sitting on his head was the reason behind the witch's namesake: an actual witch's hat. It wasn't the black, pointy kind you see in movies, although it did look like it could stand up at one time. It was made of some kind of brown leather and was clearly old. Even as the Witch moved, Armend could see the cracks and wrinkles forming across the hat's surface. It was almost silly looking, if it weren't for the fact that its huge rim almost completely obscured the Witch's face. Between the hat and the hair, all Armend could make out was the Witch's nose and a hard, thin mouth. No eyes. No emotion. No features.

No mercy.

The green haired biker opened his mouth to shout a command, but the witch got to him first. In a blur of motion, his collided with the biker's jaw. As an added insult, the Witch then swung his leg into the older man's ribs. With a THUMP the biker hit the floor still awake and crying out in pain.

Alarmed, the nosepass spun around in confusion. His trainer was writhing on the ground and couldn't give commands. But it was still in battle, so he couldn't leave the fight either. The poor rock pokemon just didn't know what to do at all.

The stunky, however, had no such hesitations. She shot at the Compass Pokemon like a little purple arrow. Her claws stretched themselves out and became pitch black as a smog of purple, dark energy warped around them. The stunky's Night Slash sliced through the nosepass' rocky frame leaving a hideous crack on its famed nose. Completely stunned and unable to process that much pain, the nosepass wobbled on its legs a bit, and then fell to the floor. Neither he nor his trainer got up.

It wasn't until the echo of the nosepass' faint dissipated that Armend realized that he probably was making the same kind of face the rock pokemon was when it realized it was hit. Looking around he was relieved to find that he wasn't the only one. The entire crowd and even Dial-Up had gone numb from shock at the ruthless display of battling.

The silence hung on everyone; no one except the stunky dared to break it. The small skunk was celebrating with a victory dance and the occasional spout of flames into the air from her mouth.

Her trainer was quiet, but he was no better. No! Scratch that! To Armend he looked completely at ease. Even bored as he ignored his fallen opponents and his stunkies' celebration. He looked at the crowd, probably even met each of their eyes as he spoke for the first time since Armend arrived.

"Who's next?"

(o)

** So be honest, how was that everyone? The Witch and Armend are characters I've been writing about for a long time now, but I've been looking forward to writing this particular story. If the descriptions about their appearance make no sense I do apologize. Physical appearance is a hard thing to get in writing for me. So many details…**

** If any one of them make no sense to you, my avatar should provide an ample image of them. That and my DA page though I wouldn't recommend that due to spoiler alerts.**

** Anyway, see you next time.**


	2. How to Get Knee Deep in Trouble

Normally after a ruthless display of power the crowd watching go into a shocked silence, but Armend seemed to be the only one willing to comply. Around him people were muttering to each other. Some were quietly arguing about whether they go first and others actively encouraged someone else to go before them. One brave soul, admittedly a very twitchy, scared out of his wits soul but a brave soul nonetheless, broke away to drag the biker and his nosepass back into the safe wall of astonished people. The Witch and his stunky didn't even seem to notice.

Finally, someone strode boldly into the clearing with one hand clenching a great ball. The man didn't seem much older than The Witch, but he was a lot bulkier compared to the lean red-head. He was dressed in casual but tight, black clothes. No matter how Armend looked at this man he just screamed 'Tough-As-A-Brick.'

With a flick of his wrist, Brick Man tossed the great ball, and the orb burst open with a flash of white light. Like lighting it sped towards the ground before pooling and condensing into a more solid shape. When the glow faded, it revealed an aron scraping the pavement with one of its stubby arms. Together, brick and steel-type crouched into fighting stance.

The stunky chattered to herself in delight at the show of bravado and settled into her own battle pose. The Witch, however, was staring at the man and aron and rubbing his chin in thought. "Ammonia," he suddenly ordered. "Sit this one out."

The stunky, apparently named 'Ammonia,' shot her owner a perplexed look. He met it with an equally stern gaze, or at least Armend guessed he met it. A silent battle of wills clashed for a brief moment, but the stunky was the first to back down. She let out a long disappointed sigh, kicked a pebble out of the way, and stomped towards the crowd to join as another spectator.

From his pocket, The Witch pulled out a regular pokeball and tossed it. Like before, a shot of light burst out. This time, however, it seemed to widen in shape and size even before it reached the ground. This time an enormous swampert appeared blinking from the light show.

And immediately the crowd booed.

Armend almost jumped off Dial-Up's back. When the new challenger appeared, everyone had kept their conversations to a minimum. Now everywhere he looked he saw some serious disappointment and fury on their faces. He didn't blame them. After all an aron against a swampert? Sure it was a smart switch on The Witch's part, but no one wants to see smart in a back alley street battle. Pure power and stunning matches! That was why people wanted to see The Witch in the first place!

"TYPE ENFORCER!"

"HACK!"

"CHEATER!"

"Jeez. Ugly crowd," Armend muttered to Dial-Up. The twin headed bird nodded.

If The Witch heard any of them, though, he didn't pay any attention. He was fixed on his swampert. Almost expectant even.

The amphibious pokemon itself was very much affected, however. He swiveled his head around trying to make sense of what was going on while rubbing the sleep from his black eyes. When he noticed the brick and his aron though he stopped. Then a dawn of comprehension flashed on his face and he caught up with the rest of the world. A toothless grin split across his face as he looked at his opponent. Evidently he recognized the disadvantage as well and he was outright cheerful over it. Hell, he seemed _overjoyed_! With no other warning but for a sudden inflation of his orange cheeks, the mud fish pokemon unleashed a concentrated stream of water at the aron!

Which was promptly blocked by the steel-type's Protect….

…Welp. Shit…

The aron lowered his head and started to charge the startled amphibian. His Iron Head attack smacked into the swampert's foot, and Armend guessed that the bigger pokemon must've jumped five feet into the air screaming like a little girl. Collapsing on his side, he rolled around on the floor holding his foot crying before crawling over to hide behind his trainer as best as his bulky frame allowed. The Witch let out an audible sigh of disappointment. His stunky was holding her shaking her head in both front paws. The crowd stopped booing and stared at the sight in shock.

...On second thought, maybe there was a reason why The Witch had picked that swampert for this particular fight.

Ignoring his pokemon's whining The Witch grabbed the swampert by his head fin and hauled him up to eye level. Judging from the amphibian's fresh tears, his grip wasn't particularly gentle either. "When an opponent hits you," he said in a lecturing tone, anger _just_ barely constrained. "Rolling around crying gives them an opening to attack again, when they're being smart." At the last remark he shot a glare at the aron before returning to his subject. "And if you know you're going to react poorly in the first place then you could've used Protect yourself!" With a snarl of disgust he let go, and the swampert dropped onto his stomach no longer crying and glaring back.

Brick (and the audience too for that matter) was blinking in stunned surprise at the spectacle but recovered enough when it finally dawned that The Witch was actually ignoring him. "Aron! Screech attack!" he ordered. Acting instantly at the command the small steel-type threw back his head, and an armor-piercing scream the likes of which _shouldn't _be physically possible for such a small creature came out of his mouth.

Armend's hands flew up to his ears as Dial-Up pressed her heads together both in an attempt to ward off the sound. The Witch and his swampert weren't faring any better, both visibly wincing in pain as the sound of a thousand nails being scrapped against a chalkboard assaulted them. Brick allowed a leering grin as he gave another command, one Armend could not hear. The aron stopped screaming to lower his head again and charge at the defenseless swampert.

The Witch, however, was not as defenseless. Seeing the tiny pokemon charging at his pokemon like a large bullet, the human swung his leg in retaliation. The aron's attack connected with The Witch's shin, and a crack rattled through the air making Armend suck in his breath in sympathy pain. Humans don't just _kick_ charging steel-types, and for a moment it seemed that time had frozen right at the moment of impact in his eyes. When the world moved again, the aron had actually been forced back. And The Witch…

He was still standing.

And he was _running_. Towards Brick, that is, with a fist raised. He even stepped on the aron along the way.

"Aron! Metal Cla-AUCK!" The Witch's punch cut Brick's command short, and the large man staggered back clutching his nose. Before he could recover, another punch, this time to the gut, had him doubling over winded.

With his trainer incapacitated, the aron was left not knowing what to do without his human's orders. His earlier bravado was quickly vanishing, and all the pokemon could do was shoot confused looks at the humans, then the swampert, and then the humans again.

The swampert was not so indecisive. Picking up on his opponent's confusion, he hauled himself into an upright position and let his orange cheeks inflate again. With a sickening, wet cough he spat out a gigantic ball of mud that practically submerged the smaller pokemon. Crying in protest, the aron was left to dig itself out.

Match over. Witch: Two. Brick: Zip.

A few half-hearted cheers erupted from the crowd, and, like the stunky, the swampert ate up the attention. And like before, The Witch didn't seem to give a damn, striding over towards his swampert with another withering glare. Armend could only guess at what he was going to do to that swampert.

The growing sound of a siren cut off anymore cheers, however. From his considerably high perch on Dial-Up, Armend could see the police motorcycle driving up from over the crowd. The policewoman riding it pulled out a megaphone "OK! BREAK IT UP, PEOPLE!" she commanded, her voice booming. "YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST FOR DISTURBING THE PIECE AND PARTICIPATING IN ILLEGAL BACK-ALLEY POKEMON BATTLES! SURRENDER PEACEFULLY NOW!"

In a frenzied panic, the crowd promptly began to _un-peacefully_ resist arrest, Armend included. Watching The Witch battle might have been one thing, but he didn't come here to get arrested! He was an innocent bystander! Hell, he was a member of the press! He knew things were different outside of Unova, but Sinnoh had to have _some_ version of the First Amendment, right?

Pushing the doduo to move, they tried to navigate through the swarm escapees without getting knocked around or tripped up. The once bunched together rows of heads were quickly dispelling, leaving room to maneuver the further they got from the busy officer. And it was only through blind luck that Armend managed to catch sight of The Witch as he too broke away. Neither of his pokemon were with him, most likely beamed back into their pokeballs when he joined in the get-away. With a quick heel turn, he disappeared again down another road.

Narrowing his eyes, Armend directed Dial-Up in The Witch's direction. After what he'd seen he wasn't giving up that easily.

(o)

Armend was about to give up. Things were just so much harder now.

Originally confident that Dial-Up could catch up to The Witch easily, Armend had opted to continue riding on her. Doduo's are very well regarded for their break neck speed after all, but unfortunately doduo's were built for running across flat plains and savannahs. _Not_ a city with every damn obstacle constantly getting in their way! In the past hour since they escaped the police, Dial-Up had done more climbing than running-over fences, small buildings, on and off fire escapes- because, of course, The Witch turned out to be a fricken' _pakour master_!

Gripping the bird's chest so that he wouldn't get bucked off from yet another jump, Armend cracked an eye open. The Witch was finally slowing down. He was a few yards away, further than Armend would have liked, but that was probably for the best since he didn't seem to realize that he had been followed. As calm as ever, he casually disappeared down another corner while fiddling with the pokeball around his neck.

Armend swung himself off Dial-Up's back and had to catch himself before his weakened knees gave out underneath him. With a squawk of a head, Dial-Up fretted a bit in concern, but Armend waved it off. "Just a bit wobbly," he said with a reassuring tone before zapping her back into her pokeball. He didn't want The Witch to think that he wanted to battle after all. Thinking of the earlier fights Armend shuddered. _"Nope. I don't wanna fight at all."_

Straightening himself up and letting his face break into a friendly grin, Armend strode as boldly as he could down the same corner.

He was immediately greeted with a pair of hands grabbing him by the shirt and slamming him onto the wall, knocking the breath out of him. "Who the hell are you?" The Witch growled pressing his fists deeper onto Armend's ribs.

Somewhere Armend knew that fate was laughing at him.

(o)

**Hello, Everyone. Are you surprised? I apologize for not posting this sooner. I got wrapped up in Finals and Christmas. Anyway, Armend has now officially come into contact with The Witch and it may be his last if he's not careful. Never trust a guy who can walk away after kicking an aron.**

**Anyway, there's going to be a lot of characters in this fic. Most of them being pokemon. The story itself is going to focus more on Armend and The Witch, but I would like to leave profiles of the pokemon characters as they appear just for you guys to get to know them and call me out on any mistakes I make (aren't I swell?). I may make ones for the human characters too if anyone wants more details about them.**

**Keep in mind that I do not follow the standard 'four move limit.' Pokemon can learn and use as many moves as they want. They can all be verified on Bulbapedia.**

**(o)**

**Name: Dial-Up**

**Species: Doduo**

**Gender: Female**

**Trainer: Armend Ratoula**

**Hold Item: Power Anklet**

**Moves: Quick Attack, Peck, Growl, Pursuit, Fury Attack, Pursuit, Uproar, Agility, Rage, Double Hit, Agility, Fly, Protect**

**Bio: One of Armend's first pokemon, Dial-Up is often relied on as his main method of transportation and escape from hostile enemies. However, Dial-Up would much rather be trained to fight back which leaves her often dismayed since her trainer foes out of his way to avoid battles. Despite this, she remains dutifully loyal to him regardless of her frustrations. When Armend first rode her, he was scared by her speed and got her to wear a Power Anklet a trainer gave him to cut her speed without hindering her. He has no idea what it is or its effects believing it to just be a pretty weight. **


End file.
